


Nightfall

by orphan_account



Series: Tonight, Tonight [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After failing once to seduce Louis Weasley, Scorpius decides it's time to employ a very different set of tactics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the earlier premature posting of this story, I accidentally clicked 'POST' when I really wanted a preview. Sorry!

Romance had always been a difficult concept for Scorpius to understand. The very idea seemed so ridiculous to him—how could one give themselves over so completely to the mercy of another person; risk themselves being hurt, rejected, or humiliated?

That being said, he knew that if he was going to be successful in getting what he wanted from Louis—who despite Scorpius's initial impression of him, seemed rather sensitive and sentimental—he might very well have to be romantic rather than coarse, even if he was only pretending.

On Tuesday afternoon he cornered Louis on the way back from the greenhouses, employing little subtlety as he grabbed Louis's arm and dragged him bodily into the hedged gardens off the Great Hall. Once they were alone, Louis looked as if he might slap Scorpius again.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, ripping his arm out of Scorpius's grasp. "Are you a kidnapper now as well as a stalker?"

Scorpius snorted at this and rolled his eyes, but quickly remembered he was supposed to be being _sweet_ and so wiped his face clean of scorn. Putting on his best impression of a love-struck teenager, he answered, "I'm sorry I grabbed you like that, but I needed to see you."

Louis narrowed his eyes in suspicion and folded his arms across his chest, leaning away from Scorpius as if he didn't trust him at all. "Is that so?" he asked.  “Why?”

Scorpius took a deep breath. "Because," he began, "I can't stop thinking about you. I feel terrible about the way I've behaved and I want to make it up to you. Please?"

Louis looked taken aback by this, and his sour expression faltered somewhat. "Oh," he replied, and flushed slightly. "Well, I... I don't..." 

Scorpius was immediately pleased with Louis's stuttering reaction. He'd been right after all—the boy  _was_ a foolish sentimentalist. Scorpius wondered whether Louis was like this with all the boys—or else just had an ill-advised weakness for Scorpius, despite his inexcusable behaviour—but he was at once optimistic regarding his mission to bed the other boy. If things continued on like this, with Louis looking so conflicted and unsure, Scorpius calculated he’d be out of here and between Louis’s legs long before dinner started. He could be very persuasive when the occasion called for it.

“Will you forgive me?” Scorpius pleaded, hoping he wasn’t overdoing it. “I only want to talk; make it up to you. I won’t be able to think rationally until we’ve sorted this out. It won’t do for you to think so ill of me before I’ve had the chance to explain.”

“All this from the boy who wouldn’t be caught dead with me in a plague pit?” Louis questioned, still regarding Scorpius with plain mistrust. This caused Scorpius to wonder how many times the boy had been lied to, just like this, and subsequently abandoned after whoever it was had gotten what they wanted from him. He felt the vaguest twinge of guilt at his own lack of morals, but quickly stomped all over it and forced himself to push onward with the plan. It wasn’t _his_ fault if Louis was so gullible he’d believe any old story from a boy who clearly only wanted in his pants.  

“Look, I’m unbearable when I’m jealous,” Scorpius finally explained, the expression on his face not in the least bit impaired by his dishonesty. “I’m sorry if I offended you—really, I am—but I don’t like seeing you with Pendergrast. He’s a pig and he doesn’t treat you right—look at the way he took off and left you by yourself the other night. I don’t understand why you keep seeing him.”

Louis raised a brow at this, as if with this last part Scorpius had pushed the boundaries of believability, but Scorpius sensed he was getting beneath the other boy’s skin now: Gradually, Louis’s posture was relaxing, his arms falling back to his sides rather than hugged defensively to his chest; and he was leaning slightly toward Scorpius rather than away from him, as if begging to be touched.

Scorpius saw an opportunity and quickly pounced. Stepping forward, he placed his hands on Louis’s shoulders and slowly leaned in for a kiss. Louis hesitated—Scorpius could see the misgivings in the other boy’s eyes—before giving in and tilting his face upwards, lips parted and at the ready, thick dark lashes fluttering as he closed his pretty eyes. Scorpius kissed him with more tenderness than he preferred, sliding his hands from the boy’s shoulders to gently cup his face, and let out a little sigh as Louis’s silky lips moved against his own.

Louis wound his arms around Scorpius’s waist and pulled him flush against him, so eager for his touch even after the hard words they had exchanged over the past week. Scorpius wondered, genuinely curious, how Louis could want to be near to him, to be so trusting of him, when it would be obvious to anyone but him that he was being cruelly deceived. Perhaps he was just stupid, though privately Scorpius thought not.

When they finally parted—Louis breathless and flushed an inviting shade of pink; Scorpius painfully aroused—Louis glanced around them, apparently conscious for the first time of the openness of their surroundings, and turned back to Scorpius with a determined look on his face. “Come with me.” Apparently he cared as little for ‘talking’ as Scorpius did.

* * *

The prefect’s bathroom was deserted at this time of afternoon.  

“I don’t want you to do it out of pity,” Scorpius blurted as Louis unbuttoned his shirt with deft and careful fingers.

Louis paused and looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really think I’m ugly?” Scorpius was embarrassed at the pathetic way he said this, but he hadn’t been able to get Louis’s remark out of his mind for days.

Louis let out a soft chuckle and lifted a hand to stroke Scorpius’s cheek. “Proud to the very last,” he murmured. “I don’t think you’re ugly, beau garçon,” he then added with a reserved sort of smile. “You say the ugliest things, but even then you are beautiful.”

Scorpius kissed him, purely on impulse. He wasn’t thinking now of the plan, _or_ calculating whether Louis would appreciate the gesture and thus be more likely to give Scorpius what he wanted. He was kissing Louis because at this moment, it was all he felt like doing.

Scorpius unfastened the other boy’s trousers and leisurely touched him awhile, exercising a restraint that surprised even himself. He did not intend to embarrass himself twice, and was determined that Louis not know it was the first time he had done something like this.

When they were on their knees, each stroking the other’s hardness, Scorpius said, with far more confidence and authority than he felt, “Lie down on your back.”

Louis did as he was told, not taking his eyes off of Scorpius, and settled on his back, knees slightly raised. He did not appear at all concerned about his own nakedness—which seemed fitting given that even his feet were pleasing and perfectly-formed.

Scorpius tried to mimic his easy self-assurance as he settled over the other boy and kissed him. He stroked Louis’s hip and, with his free hand, fumbled for the jar of salve in his pocket—opening it with some difficulty and scooping a little out with his fingers—before slipping a hand between Louis’s legs and seeking out the tight ring of muscle he'd been thinking about for days.

When Louis realized what Scorpius was doing he stated, in a dull sort of voice, “You were prepared for this.” His disappointment was unmistakable. 

“No,” Scorpius lied, and paused in his ministrations. “I always carry salve with me in the winter; my lips get chapped in the cold.”

Louis seemed to accept this explanation with no further thought. “Oh,” he muttered, and quickly shook his head. “God, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” Scorpius kissed him to prevent further talk. The more Louis talked, the more he exposed what Scorpius considered an almost fatal naiveté and trusting nature. He wondered what Louis had meant that night when he’d said he lied all the time, and to everyone. Scorpius, who prided himself on his ability to discern dishonesty in most everybody, could not understand how this could be true given he saw nothing in Louis’s eyes when he looked at him but complete openness.

He decided not to dwell on this a moment longer, however, as he did not wish to be put off what they were about to do by experiencing a last-minute attack of conscience. Louis’s inability to see the truth before him was his own cross to bear. Scorpius believed that each person’s weaknesses were their own responsibility—he was thus not at fault if Louis allowed his nature to be exploited.

Scorpius pressed a finger into Louis’s body and carefully worked it in and out of him, with a confidence that belied his inexperience. He delighted in the breathy moans he elicited from the boy beneath him, opining he must be doing something right if he was giving Louis pleasure rather than fumbling and hurting him, as he’d initially feared he might.

When Louis was panting and bucking his hips, his skin flushed petal-pink and a light sheen of sweat on his brow, Scorpius determined he was ready—this and he was no longer able to rein in his wicked lust for the other boy. He pushed Louis’s leg up until his knee was pressed to his chest, and carefully guided his cock into the other boy’s tight opening. The immediate pressure around his length made his eyes water, and he was forced to still his body a moment lest he come too soon.

Louis threw his head back and let out a delicious-sounding groan. Scorpius’s gaze fell upon the ugly scar marring the other boy’s otherwise perfect throat, and in a moment his conscience deigned to make an unwelcome appearance. The thought occurred to him that he might very well be victimizing someone who was not in his right mind, and this idea was intolerable even to him; but then Louis curled his fingers around Scorpius’s thigh, urging him to fuck him deeper, his fingernails digging into the sensitive pale flesh, and all of Scorpius’s misgivings were abruptly forgotten.

He pushed Louis’s leg further into his chest, so that he was lying partially on his side, and tangled his fingers in Louis’s hair, holding down the other boy's head as he fucked him with steady, even thrusts. Louis seemed as turned on as Scorpius, his cock straining against his belly, though he neglected to touch himself while Scorpius was inside him, instead appearing to prefer the sensation of Scorpius’s cock driving into him, again and again. It pleased Scorpius to give the other boy so much pleasure, and he had never felt as needed, desired, or wanted as he did right now.

He quickened the pace and depth of his thrusts, deriving as much pleasure from the look on Louis’s face as he did from the sensation of having his cock buried in the boy’s arse. With a guttural moan, he clenched his fingers around a clump of Louis’s hair, surely hurting him as he brutally held down his head, and let go of any notion he might once have had of being gentle or considerate.

Louis did not seem to mind being treated with such aggression, and by now was almost at the point of wailing. Scorpius, unable to delay his orgasm a moment longer, no matter how much he wanted to prove to Louis that he could, let go and came, fingers twisting in Louis’s hair, an odd and unwelcome feeling of possessiveness sweeping over him as he spent himself inside the other boy’s body.

He slumped forward at once, no longer able to hold himself upright, and attempted to catch his breath as Louis wound his arms around him and held him close to his body.

When finally he regained the gift of speech, Scorpius uttered, in a voice that did not sound like his own, “I don’t want you to see him anymore.” He wasn’t sure from whence this sudden need had come, but he didn’t like it one bit. Already he had deviated from the plan, though it was hopeless trying to stay on course—after what they had done, Scorpius did not want anyone doing to Louis what _he_ had just done to him.   

Louis sighed, his body warm and soft and welcoming against Scorpius’s skin, and murmured, “I won’t.” His belly was sticky with his release, and Scorpius realized then that the boy must have come without being touched. Gently, Louis threaded his fingers through Scorpius’s hair and sighed again. “I don’t know if it matters, though,” he whispered, stroking Scorpius’s hair now as if they were lovers, and not merely strangers who, for whatever reason, had decided it would be a good idea to fuck each other.

“What do you mean?” Scorpius asked him. He was unsure why he hadn’t yet moved when he had already planned, before this had ever happened, to leave Louis here alone as soon he’d had his way with him.

“Tomorrow you’ll just—”

“No,” Scorpius interrupted, and leaned back so he could see Louis’s face. “I won’t. I promise. I won’t behave that way again; you have my word.” There it was once more—words tumbling out of his mouth in conflict with his own sense of reason.

He didn’t know why he was promising Louis anything. His promises were worth about as much as the dirt beneath his shoes, but he wanted to keep this one—even if it turned out to be impossible.

God, what on _earth_ was _happening_ to him?

“We should get dressed soon,” Louis said after a while, and Scorpius thought he detected a faint note of happiness in the other boy’s voice, a liveliness which had not been there before. “The Hufflepuff prefects will be wanting a shower after practice, and it’s almost dinner time.”

“Alright,” Scorpius agreed, though he didn’t move, only stared.

“What are you looking at?” Louis asked him, with a self-conscious sort of smile on his face. Insecurity looked good on him, Scorpius decided.

Without answering the boy—and against his own better judgement—he gave Louis a final lingering kiss before peeling his body away from him. They dressed in silence and left the bathroom, parting ways to return to their respective common-rooms without so much as a touch or a backwards glance.

When Scorpius was alone once more, he did not feel lighter or freer, as he had the first time he’d been with Louis. He felt tensed, coiled and afraid, as if now he had done something to truly regret. He had given Louis some part of him back there, he realized—some part that was not staged, false, or calculated, but real, honest and true.

He knew then that he had been betrayed by his own sense of arrogance—arrogance in thinking he could do what he'd done to Louis and feel nothing but contempt for him afterwards—and he despaired to think what he was going to do or say to Louis the next time they saw one another. He doubted he would ever be able to keep his promise to the other boy. But when Scorpius finally reached the dormitory and peeled off his clothes, all of which still carried the scent of Louis’s skin, he knew that he would at the very least try; even if sentimentality was something only for fools.

 

~Finis~  


End file.
